


don't stop running

by haikyuutrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Minor Violence, PLEASE READ THE STARTING NOTES, Pandemics, Post-Apocalypse, References to Suicide, Strangers to Lovers, even if the world is ending there's still some fluff and romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikyuutrash/pseuds/haikyuutrash
Summary: So here he was, running over the sandy hills and past the wrecked city to get to the haven. His parents didn’t make it, having been infected already and clearly unable to get inside even if they reached the border. And the last thing his mother had done before she forced him to leave the house and start running was to make him promise he’d get to the safe haven.He made the promise. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it.###Kenma finds himself running away to get to the safe haven during an apocalypse. The world is ending around him, giving him only a minimal chance of getting through it all. But maybe, finding an unexpected ally could give him a new spark of hope.orThe kuroken post-apocalypse AU that I justhadto write.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 20
Kudos: 61





	don't stop running

**Author's Note:**

> i cried writing this but it was completely worth it :')
> 
> PLEASE READ THE NOTES:  
> //this fic has a darker theme than my previous ones and i didn't know what tags or warnings to use so below are some things to take note of  
> 1\. it's a post-apocalypse au and there is some violence (though it's not very gory in my opinion) and it's mostly guns  
> 2\. because of the circumstance ^^ it's possible to have a character death (but i won't spoil anything so there might or might not)  
> 3\. there is a reference to suicide  
> 4\. i'm not sure how comfortable yall will be reading this with the current COVID-19 situation (even though i swear this has nothing to do with that) so please read at your own discretion
> 
> on another note: the setting is similar to the scorch trials because i'm a fan of the maze runner series (but i made my own twists as well because it's in Japan instead)
> 
> AND EXTRA: there's this [song](https://open.spotify.com/track/3bCkiGVvpYwekCsaIb5OU1?si=GHgL-DM0RHyh_Ehz7NXy5A) i found on spotify that i think would go pretty well with the middle part of this fic and [another song](https://open.spotify.com/track/3mAc5QY56d5Zl1MbvnWybK?si=R3C0NixcQS6gh0D2oS8wwA) (which isn't in English but the lyrics fit _amazingly_ well) that would go very well near the end :D
> 
> enjoy!! <3

Kenma ran.

He could feel the heat from the sun scorching down on him as he passed by building after building, surrounded by broken glass and mountains of sand. He didn’t know how long he'd been running, only that he had to get into the safe haven.

“Never stop running until you get to the haven,” he’d been told by his mother. “And never trust anyone.” Kenma had been running for what seemed like forever, yet he still couldn’t see even the slightest sign of nearing the haven. He didn’t even know what the haven looked like. All he knew was that he would be safe there --- safe from the plague that was now taking over the entirety of the world, Japan included.

It had been months ago when the first wave hit, when a part the world began to lose their sanity. Dubbed as the Plague, it started in the west, seemingly far away from where Kenma was living his life as per normal. Then things started to change as the infectious virus began to eat into the south of Japan, slowly taking over more and more of the map.

And it spread.

It wasn’t just one of those horror movies where one bite turned a person into a zombie, but it was a slow process. A slow and painful one. The Infected, as they were called, started to lose their temper more easily, sometimes flying into a rage at the most minimal reason. Then it got worse as they began to kill, to thirst for blood. There was no warning when the Plague began in a person, just symptoms becoming obvious over time and then a phase of bloodlust that lasted till they died. It was a pandemic, turning people into monsters that hurt even those closest to them. The Infected who'd gone past the curable stage, if there ever was a cure, had pretty much taken over lots of ruined buildings, mostly because they tended to stick to dark locations. They were known as the Lost and weren’t often sighted in broad daylight under the hot sun, which meant that it would be relatively safe to roam around the open areas as long as one did not do anything that would specifically attract them.

Of course, there were also those who were immune to the Plague. But being immune to getting it didn’t mean they were resistant to all the side effects that came along. All around, people were falling victim to the virus, putting even those immune at risk of sudden attacks. Being immune also meant they were special. And that kind of special people often got taken for experiments to find a cure.

And that’s where Kenma came in, for he was one of them --- those known as the Immune. He’d heard the rumours that there were people from overseas coming into the borders of Japan to make a sweep of all the Immunes, to bring them overseas for research purposes. Kenma’s mother had heard about that too, and as much as it would keep Kenma safe from the Infected and the Lost, she knew it wasn’t something that would end well. Thus called for plan B.

Word had gone around that a group of Immunes had come together to isolate the whole of Yokohama and seal the borders with high walls before the Plague could spread into it. And apparently they’d called it the safe haven, because there, everyone there was an Immune and anyone who was infected was turned away.

So here he was, running over the sandy hills and past the wrecked city to get to the haven. His parents didn’t make it, having been infected already and clearly unable to get inside even if they reached the border. And the last thing his mother had done before she forced him to leave the house and start running was to make him promise he’d get to the safe haven.

He made the promise. But he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep it.

###

He only stopped running after three hours. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed to be running on the sand-covered ground, having to sometimes cross over unsteady platforms constructing what was left of Tokyo. There were still some buildings around, but none of them seemed like good places to be in. He’d nearly run out of water in his backpack, and it’d only struck him once he was out for about an hour that he had no food supply.

The sun was still sending heat waves over the city. Kenma found himself having to block out the excessive sunlight from his eyes with his hands. He _could_ take some shelter in a building, but Kenma wasn’t sure he wanted to. Buildings only meant darkness, and darkness was where the Lost hid. He wondered how much longer he had to go as he forced his tired legs to continue their journey, walking instead of running because he couldn’t find the strength to run anymore.

Somewhere ahead, there seemed to be a small tent under what used to be an overhead expressway. It lay on a mountain of sand, so high that the top of the tent was only around two-metres below the expressway. The Lost couldn’t possibly be sane enough to own such a tent, Kenma convinced himself, taking a few cautious steps in its direction. There didn’t seem to be anyone around the area or in the tent, judging from how the opening flap of the tent fluttered in the wind to reveal an empty inside.

Maybe it had belonged to someone who’d moved on, he decided. It was possible that he wasn’t the only one running away. Eventually, he got close enough to get a better look of the site. There was, as he’d seen earlier, a tent that was likely big enough to fit two or three people. But there were also a few planks of wood at the side, as if someone had been trying to start a fire. And the pile of ash in the middle meant that they’d probably been successful. Kenma bent down, gently pushing the flap of the tent open and peeking inside. There wasn’t much there, just a few cans of food and bottles of water. A few rectangular camping pots were at the side, but Kenma wasn’t sure he actually knew how to cook well enough to use them.

Well, the food and water would be enough to get Kenma through for a few days. He was sure the person wouldn’t mind if he stole some (or all) of them, since they’d likely moved on already. He crawled in, reaching out to grab a few cans and bottles once half of his body was inside the tent. Slinging his backpack in front of him, he stuffed the stolen goods in and backed out of the tent. With a satisfied look on his face, he stood up and looked at the tent he’d just raided, starting to zip his bag.

Then he heard a click.

Kenma froze. Was that...a gun?

“Identify yourself,” a low and threatening voice said as Kenma felt something prod into the back of his skull.

Kenma didn’t have to turn around to know what situation he’d just gotten into. For someone to be sane, to be here at the tent, to be holding a gun to his head, it could only mean one thing. The person who’d set up the tent had returned.

“Kozume,” he said, sounding as steady and unwavered as he could. “Kozume Kenma.”

The voice continued, as cold as it’d been before. “Why are you here?”

Kenma knew that in this sort of ending world, it wouldn’t be much of a surprising move for the person behind him to pull the trigger. Kenma decided that he’d have to choose his words wisely. “I didn’t know someone was still inhabiting this tent. I was passing by and thought I’d get some supplies.”

There was a pause, though Kenma didn’t move at all. He could still feel the barrel of the gun pressed against him. “Down on your knees and hands above your head,” the voice commanded. “Don’t try anything funny.”

Kenma most certainly wouldn’t try anything. Deciding it wasn’t the right moment to fight back even if he wanted to, he dropped onto his knees and raised his hands.

It was only then that the person circled around Kenma, ending up in front of him with the gun still pointed at his head. Slowly, Kenma tilted his head up to get a good look at the tent’s owner. It was a boy that looked just a little older than him, sporting messy black hair and narrow eyes. He was a lot taller than Kenma, with a lean but muscular body. Kenma wasn’t sure how much of a fight he’d be able to put up against this person, but he did know that he wouldn’t hesitate to try if it would possibly save his life.

One hand holding the handgun in position, the stranger roughly tugged Kenma’s bag’s away from him, turning it around so all the cans and bottles inside fell out onto the sandy ground. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, glaring fiercely at Kenma.

“I’ve told you,” Kenma said emotionlessly. “I thought the tent was abandoned so I decided to get some supplies for my journey.”

The tent’s owner raised an eye at him. “Journey?” he said in an interrogative voice. “Where to?”

Kenma went quiet for a brief moment. He wasn’t sure he should be telling a complete stranger about the safe haven. It could threaten his safety to a great extent. Although, now that Kenma thought about it, there wasn’t much to lose anymore. Compared to being shot in the head, it wouldn’t be too bad to reveal the not so secret haven.

“To the safe haven in Yokohama,” he finally said.

He felt the gun press into his forehead. “Safe haven? The one with the Immunes?”

Kenma nodded.

The gun was lifted slightly off him. The stranger looked at him sceptically once more, as if contemplating whether or not to end him. After around ten seconds, he shrugged. “You could be my ticket in,” he mumbled, though Kenma wasn’t exactly sure what he meant.

Ticket in? Then this person was likely not to be an Immune. Kenma couldn’t understand how being together with him would be a way into the haven, but if that was what would spare his life, then it wouldn’t be too bad. It just meant another person on the journey, after all. A person with useful supplies, at that.

“Get up,” the person instructed, taking the gun away at last. “And don’t try to run away because you can’t outrun me.” Kenma fought the urge to roll his eyes at how overconfident this stranger was, but he certainly wasn’t going to risk his life over that.

Kenma got up. “Who are you?” he asked monotonously. If he’d given his name, then Kenma deserved to know this person’s as well. It didn’t seem like a good idea to be walking around with someone he didn’t even know the name of.

With a wary look on his face, the tent’s owner said, “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

Kenma nodded in acknowledgement before retrieving his backpack, which Kuroo had thoughtlessly thrown onto the ground. “What do you need me to do?” he asked. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting himself into, though he just hoped he would be able to fulfil his promise to his mother.

“Lead me to the safe haven,” Kuroo said simply, gathering the cans and bottle before dumping them into the tent. “I’m not an Immune so they wouldn’t let me in. But if you were there, I might---” He cut himself off and sighed exasperatedly. “Why am I telling you this? Just play along and you’ll be fine. Try anything funny and---”

“You’ll shoot me,” Kenma finished his sentence, accompanied by a dramatic eye roll. “I get it, I can’t escape and whatever.” He didn’t need to be told twice. “So how do you know you’re not infected with the Plague?” Kenma asked casually as he watched Kuroo enter the tent.

“Am I attacking you?” Kuroo shot back from inside the tent.

Kenma didn’t respond. Above him, the sky was beginning to darken slightly, signifying the arrival of nightfall. He sighed and shook his head slowly in disbelief. “Never trust anyone,” his mother had told him. But here he was, with someone he’d just met. At least, he had somewhere to stay for the night. He doubted that he’d be forced to sleep outside, given the supposed value he was worth to this person as an Immune.

“It’s getting late,” Kuroo’s voice came from the tent. “Light the fire, will you?” It wasn’t much of an option, since he followed by throwing a box of matchsticks out of the flap. “And make it quick, we don’t have all night before the Lost come out to hunt. They seem to like fires a lot.”

As much as Kenma would like to irritate this new ‘ally’ of his, he knew that it would be best to just follow his instructions for now. Kuroo seemed to have been out longer than Kenma had, so he’d know a little more at the very least. He picked up the box of matchsticks from the sand, taking out a matchstick. He’d never done something like this, but he’d watched enough movies and such to know how matchsticks worked.

It took around five tries before he got the stick to successfully light up and he tossed it onto firewood in a mild panic at the fire being inches away from his skin. It shot up in a huge flame, enough to get Kuroo out of the tent. “Idiot, you could’ve killed us!” Kuroo hissed, opening a can of baked beans and pouring the food into one of the pots. “You’re lucky you’re an Immune or you’d be completely useless to me.”

Kenma was pretty sure he was exaggerating about the fire killing them, though he did have the sudden urge to light another matchstick and throw it at the tent just so Kuroo would have to suffer for the night (and possibly longer). Of course, he didn’t, because that would leave him stranded too.

Kuroo squatted down beside the fire that had now settled down slightly, placing the pot carefully such that it was balancing on two planks. Kenma watched in silence, staring at the baked beans slowly being cooked. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he trusted Kuroo to cook for them, but he was sure that he wouldn’t be the better option.

It took around eight minutes for the food to be cooked, or at least cooked enough for Kuroo to take it off the fire. He took out a second pot and poured half of the portion into it, sliding it towards Kenma on the ground. Kenma looked from Kuroo, to the food, then back to Kuroo again. “This...is my dinner?”

Kuroo scoffed. “Did you expect a luxurious buffet? You see, I don’t know if you came from some rich kid family or whatsoever, but out here in the midst of an apocalypse, you make do with what you can get.” His voice was laced with heavy sarcasm, leaving Kenma to look away and start prodding his baked beans with a rusty spoon that Kuroo had passed to him.

He wasn’t a huge fan of baked beans, but he didn’t seem to have a choice as his stomach began to hurt. The last time he’d eaten would be breakfast that day, sometime in the morning before he’d been hurriedly chased out of the house.

“Wash the pot and the spoon once you’re done,” Kuroo said after a few more minutes, having finished his food. “Don’t use more than half a bottle of water.”

Kenma wondered how half a bottle would be enough to wash the whole pot, but Kuroo didn’t seem like he was joking when he said that. It made sense, though, since they didn’t have _that_ much water that they could use it without thought. It was probably more than enough for Kuroo, but once Kenma was in the picture, there appeared a potential lack of supplies. Which also meant, their journey couldn’t be a slow one.

Taking a half empty bottle from beside him, the other half having been used by Kuroo, Kenma poured it slowly over the pan and the spoon, cleaning them with a rag that had been placed beside the bottle. In contrast to his normal life at home, this was a harsh condition to be living in. Once he was done, he gathered the things and called for Kuroo to put out the fire.

With a sigh, Kuroo grumbled about Kenma not knowing anything and scooped out some sand, dumping it onto the fire. He repeated it a few times and eventually, the fire died out. “You’re really useless, aren’t you?” he mumbled as he brushed past Kenma, heading into the tent. “Hurry up and get the things inside.”

###

The night had never felt so cold before. They had neither a mattress nor a blanket inside and Kenma was shivering as he lay on the thin layer of the tent, with sand bristles rubbing against his skin. “Stop shaking and go to sleep,” Kuroo said unfeelingly. He was at the opposite side of the tent, being as far in as possible while Kenma stayed near the entrance.

“Easy for you to say,” Kenma retorted, flipping onto his side so he was backfacing Kuroo. “You’re not the one who’s spending his first night like this.” He could feel an ache creeping up his back as the wind blew hard at the tent for the utmost time. Thank goodness they’d zipped the flap up, or it would have slapped time after time at Kenma’s face. He missed his bed so, _so_ , much.

“Tch, whatever. Just don’t be a whiny brat in the morning if you don’t get enough sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenma said with a huff. He didn’t need Kuroo to nag at him about getting enough sleep. Although, he missed having his mother telling him to go to bed when he was staying up too late. He’d never see her again, he realised. And thinking about that made it sink in harder than before. He bit his lip gently, forcing himself to close his eyes.

He didn’t hear another word from Kuroo for the rest of the night.

###

“Oi, Kozume.”

Kenma woke up to something, which he’d later realise to be a foot, prodding his back. He groaned, turning onto his back and reaching for his---

Where was his blanket? Kenma bolted upright, a sharp pain travelling through his spine. “...Huh,” he said, looking around. It was only then that he remembered where he was now --- in a tent in the middle of an apocalyptic Tokyo. How fun.

“Get up, we need to get moving,” Kuroo said in an authoritative voice before walking away. “Pack a few cans and bottles in your bag and then come out and help me take down the tent.”

Kenma sighed and began stuffing as many cans and bottles as he could into the tent --- not just to split the load with Kuroo but more so in case they miraculously got separated and Kenma could keep them for himself. He was able to fit quite a lot, though it made his backpack significantly heavier than before. He crawled out of the tent with his bag, placing a few supplies on the sand. When he’d gotten out, Kuroo was gathering the wooden planks and shoving them into his backpack. Upon seeing Kenma, he walked over and took the remaining supplies.

“Ready to take down the tent?” he asked, to which Kenma nodded even though he had completely no idea how to help.

He ended up watching at the side as Kuroo took out the pegs that had been loosely dug into the sand and kept them in a small pouch, then took down the tent and somehow reduced it to fit in a tent bag. “Let’s go,” Kuroo said once he was done. With his backpack and the tent bag, Kuroo began to walk away and Kenma hurried behind.

“...Where are we going?” Kenma asked as Kuroo stopped on top of a decently huge mountain of sand and glanced at what was left of the city around.

Kuroo gave him a look of disbelief. “ _You’re_ supposed to be leading the way. Why don’t _you_ tell me?”

Kenma sighed in frustration, looking out as well. From what he could remember, Yokohama was south of Tokyo. He took out a small compass from his backpack, one that his mother had given to him right before he'd left. “South,” he thought aloud, turning his body so he was facing the right direction. He started to walk, then it slowly progressed to a jog and eventually a run --- with Kuroo following behind him the whole time.

###

They stopped about three kilometres later. Kenma wasn’t sure they were even in Tokyo anymore, because the place was so ruined that it was impossible to tell how it’d looked like before. There was, however, one building that was standing rather upright as compared to the others. A huge sign that was nearly broken hung loosely on the wall, indicating that there had been a supermarket inside the building.

“We do need to stock up on more water,” Kenma heard the other boy say.

Kenma’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Don’t tell me---”

It was too late, for Kuroo had already started in the direction of the entrance to what Kenma supposed was an abandoned mall. He was most certainly out of his mind, Kenma concluded, turning to continue his run with full plans on leaving Kuroo behind.

Then he stopped short of a few steps. Kuroo had the tent, didn’t he? There was no way Kenma would make it to Yokohama in the span of one day, so he’d definitely need some shelter. With a reluctant sigh, he turned around to look at Kuroo who was a few steps away from entering the building. Kuroo was such a dumbass.

“You and your stupid ideas,” Kenma mumbled as he found his way to Kuroo’s side.

Kuroo shot him a sideward glare. “At least I have survival skills, unlike _someone_.” They entered the supermarket, whose shelves were nearly all empty, though Kuroo quickly navigated them to the broken refrigerator of water bottles.

Kenma grabbed a few and put them in his backpack. It felt weird to be stealing something, but the atmosphere of the whole area lessened the guilt that he felt. Plus, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to steal something before. That had been the reason he was even in this situation in the first place. “Yeah, walking into an abandoned supermarket is an _amazing_ survival skill. A round of applause to you,” he said satirically.

“Shut up, Kozume.” Kuroo frowned and kicked the back of Kenma’s leg as they were heading to the exit, earning a glare from the boy.

“Make---”

Kenma cut himself off at a strange noise. Immediately, both of them were completely silent. There was a howl that echoed around the supermarket, sounding as if it were coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Kenma flinched, finding himself moving slightly closer to Kuroo because he did remember that Kuroo had a gun.

Kuroo seemed to remember as well, for his hand moved slowly but steadily towards the gun that he’d hatched in his belt, glancing around and trying to locate the source of the dreadful noise. “Stay beside me,” he whispered to Kenma, who didn’t respond. The howling got louder as the two of them inched towards the exit. Maybe if they got there fast enough, they’d be back in the open under the sun.

Then all of a sudden, as quickly as it’d started, the howling stopped. Kenma could feel his heart racing. All of this suspense was too much for him --- he knew neither what the cause of the sound was (though he did have a hunch), nor why it’d disappeared like that. He sucked in a deep breath, preparing to bolt to the exit as soon as he got the chance.

Back to back, the two of them circled around, keeping a close to full view of their surroundings. Kenma heard a crash, coming from behind him, immediately turning his head around to look in the direction of the crash. Kuroo had been facing that direction already, and as he caught sight of Kenma turning around, he let out a loud shout.

“Don’t turn around!” Knowing it was too late for Kenma to turn back, Kuroo spun around and pushed Kenma aside in the process, firing a bullet straight at where Kenma had been backfacing.

There was an ear-piercing cry as a body fell to the ground, right at Kenma’s feet. Kenma had to stop himself from yelling. He’d been so close to being mauled to death by that half-alive creature on the floor that had once been a human. “Dammit, Kozume! Keep your eyes in front of you!” Kuroo shouted as he turned around, shooting at a few figures that had risen out of the dark.

The sight of the body made Kenma feel sick. The bullet from Kuroo’s gun had hit right in the upper skull of the Lost, creating a visible hole to its brain and which blood was now oozing out of. Kenma had never seen one of the Lost before, but now that he was staring at one, it was worse than he’d thought it would have been. Its eyes had been completely taken over by white, with the exception of the visible bluish cracks branching out from behind the eye sockets. It was too dark to make out the exact colour, but there seemed to be a dark fluid coming out of the body’s mouth, as well as similarly coloured veins lining its limbs.

Kenma couldn’t look at it anymore without feeling his stomach churn. “Focus!” he heard Kuroo shout as gunfire rang throughout the area again. Kenma looked up from the body to see two, or possibly more, of the Lost emerging from behind the shelves. He didn’t have a gun to defend himself against them, so he’d need to improvise and come up with something, and quickly at that.

He kicked at one of the shelves, causing a few tins of food to fall to the ground. In a swift motion, he picked a few of them up, throwing them like rocks at anything that appeared out of the dark. It was clear by then that the supermarket, or maybe even the whole mall, was a haunt of the Lost, for they seemed to be rising out of nowhere and rushing in an unbalanced run at the duo.

The tins collided with a few of them, slowing them down but not getting rid of them completely as they got back up after a few seconds, lunging towards the boy. Kenma swung his leg out to kick one of them that came to close, following immediately by hurling a tin at the creature’s skull. “Kuroo! I can’t get rid of them!” Kenma shouted in panic as the Lost got back up, now coming towards him in larger numbers of around ten at once.

Split seconds later, he heard gunshots again and saw another body fall at his feet. It was too close to him for his comfort and he took a step back, bumping into Kuroo. “We need to go,” he said firmly.

Much to his surprise, Kuroo replied, “You’re right, I’m running out of ammo.” Another gunshot was heard as Kenma saw a figure a distance away fall to the ground. “Start running first, I’ll hold them back and catch up.”

With a quick nod, Kenma stepped over the body at his feet and ran towards the exit, shutting out the screams coming from behind him and only stopping when he was more than a two hundred metres out of the building.

He turned around, panting to catch his breath as he saw a small figure emerge out of the building, running towards him. It could have been one of the Lost, assuming Kuroo hadn’t made it out alive. But not knowing better, he stayed there and waited for the person to get to where he was.

Fortunately, it was Kuroo. “Kozume,” he said when he arrived, “you alright?”

Kenma nodded. “Did you take care of them?”

Kuroo clicked his tongue. “Clearly.”

“If you say so,” Kenma said nonchalantly, though he seemed to notice fresh blood staining the bottom half of Kuroo’s leg. He shrugged it off. It didn’t really matter to him, anyway. Kuroo could take care of himself. “Let’s continue running.”

Kuroo nodded, stuffing a few bottles he’d gotten away with into his bag. “We have a few hours before we need to stop for lunch.”

Kenma started jogging. “And then another few to sundown.”

###

They took a break after around five more kilometres. It wouldn’t have been too hard a run had it not been on the sand and constantly going up and down hills. As they took a short break under a collapsed building, Kenma guessed that they would take around another two days excluding the current one to complete the journey. That was, if they were on the right track and stayed that way.

“Want some?” Kuroo took a loaf of stale bread out of a plastic bag and broke it, offering half to Kenma. He’d seem less cold towards Kenma since that fight, but perhaps being almost killed together somehow forged a bond between them.

Kenma nodded and reached for the bread. “Thank---”

Kuroo pulled the bread back, snapping the half into two quarters and handing Kenma one. “You’re leeching off me. Don’t expect too much.” Kenma rolled his eyes. He took whatever he just thought back as he snatched the bread and bit into it before Kuroo could change his mind.

He winced as a sharp pain shot through his teeth. What was this bread even made of? It took nearly all of his strength to bite a piece off. Never had he tasted such hard bread before. Beside him, Kuroo seemed to have no problem. Or even if he was, he hid it well. Maybe those were the perks of being used to all of this.

Several minutes later, Kuroo began to walk again. “We need to get going.” Kenma sighed, but he knew Kuroo was right. He took large strides to catch up with Kuroo before the two of them progressed into a sprint once more.

Somehow, the adrenaline felt good to Kenma. There weren’t any more of the Lost coming after them as they continued heading for what they believed was Yokohama. He hadn’t had a run like this in ages, just sprinting over mountains of sand. If this hadn’t been happening at the end of the world, Kenma might have found it rather enjoyable. And to be honest, even in this situation, it did feel kinda good. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey,” Kuroo said all of a sudden, a challenging smirk appearing on his face, “race to the top of the mountain?” He nodded his head in the direction of one of the huge sand hills ahead. It was probably around half a kilometre away from what Kenma could estimate. And no way was he going to back out from a challenge, especially when it came from that person beside him.

“You’re on,” he said, seemingly unfazed as he began to run, ignoring the protests coming from behind him about getting a headstart. It didn’t take more than ten seconds before Kuroo caught up to him, pacing beside him before speeding off. Kenma, of course, wasn’t going to give up so easily. He dashed after Kuroo.

It didn’t feel like the middle of an apocalypse anymore. As Kenma ran, he felt as if he were a child again, running up the grassy hills with the other children in the neighbourhood. Ever since he’d started going to school, he hadn’t been able to run like that anymore. But now, even in a time and place like this, Kenma let his legs carry him once more as the two of them raced towards the hill. Kenma had never felt so alive.

Much to his surprise, Kenma found himself waiting at the top of the hill for Kuroo. He smiled victoriously, though it faltered as he noticed that Kuroo seemed to be wincing and limping slightly. His eyes travelled to Kuroo’s legs, where the blood seemed to be coming out in a fresh layer once more. “Are you okay?” he asked as Kuroo made it up the hill seconds later.

Kuroo brushed off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.” But it was clear from the look on his face that it wasn’t ‘just a scratch’. Kenma sighed, looking away at the buildings far off. This was an apocalypse, he reminded himself. The world was dying around him and this was no time to have fun.

“We should stop for the night,” Kenma said as he caught sight of a small shelter under a rock not too far away. There seemed to be enough space to pitch a tent and it also appeared to be a hidden spot, where the Lost were unlikely to find them during the night.

Kuroo shook his head. “We can’t stop so early,” he said. “We don't have that much time to spare.”

Kenma let out a long exhale. “You’re not gonna make it far with your leg like that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kuroo said with a small scowl, though it was obvious that he knew exactly what Kenma meant. When Kenma gave him a look that meant he was taking no arguments, Kuroo sighed reluctantly. “Since when did you become the leader?” he mumbled, brushing past Kenma as he began to limp towards the shelter, having caught Kenma staring at it.

“Stubborn dumbass,” Kenma muttered under his breath as he followed leisurely behind Kuroo, heading to the shelter.

###

It took them nearly an hour to reach the shelter and finish pitching the tent. Kuroo laid out a few wooden planks and started a fire, in a much more experienced way than Kenma had done the previous day.

“What food do we have?” Kenma asked, emptying his backpack and letting some of the contents fall onto the sand. There were a few cans of soup and various vegetables. Nothing seemed very appetising, but at least they weren’t _too_ bad.

Kuroo picked out a pack of rice noodles from his backpack. “We could have this, if you’d like.” It was just plain noodles, but it did seem like a decent source of carbohydrates. Kenma nodded and took out the pots from his bag, passing them to Kuroo.

“Learn some survival skills, will you?” Kuroo said, shaking his head with a sigh as he opened the pack of noodles and poured them into equal portions in both pots. “It’s not good to keep relying on someone.” He didn’t seem upset about that, however. He set the two pots over the fire. “You don’t know who you can really trust.”

Kenma stared at the pots. “Funny that _you’re_ telling me that.”

He heard Kuroo chuckle lightly, a strange and unfamiliar sound, but a comforting one to hear. “I’m just saying, you know? I might turn out to be a murderer and stab you one day...who knows?”

Kenma smiled in disbelief. “I don’t think you’ll tell me that if it was true.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Reverse psychology, if that’s what it’s called.”

There was silence for a little more than a minute. “Kuroo?” Kenma said, breaking the silence with his eyes still fixated on the boiling noodles. “How long have you been out here?”

A gloomy look took over Kuroo’s face. “About a month,” he said. “My parents were one of the first few Infected before people understood what was happening.” Kenma felt a wave of pity surge over him. “They turned into the Lost,” Kuroo continued in a small voice. “And I ran away.”

A month seemed like a very long time to be running away. Kenma had hardly gotten through the past day and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he didn’t know where he was going, if he’d just been running _away_ like Kuroo and not _to_ somewhere.

“I’d almost given up hope,” Kuroo said, keeping his eyes on the food. “That day when you came to my tent, it was supposed to be my last.” He smiled ironically. “I was planning to shoot myself. In the head. Just end everything like that and go to a better place where I wouldn’t have to run away anymore.” He paused. Then he turned his head and looked at Kenma. “And then I saw you.”

Kenma felt Kuroo’s eyes on him and turned his head too, locking eyes with him. “Me?” he said, sounding mildly surprised though he didn’t show it on his face.

Kuroo looked away and smiled. “I saw you there, even amidst the end of the world, _trying_ to live. And I couldn’t help but think, what if I did the same? What if I actually tried to get somewhere, instead of running aimlessly like I had been doing for a month? The moment you mentioned the safe haven, I knew I would follow you there. I thought I had lost all my chances, but then...” --- his voice trailed off and only returned after a few seconds --- “... _you_ gave me a new chance.”

Kenma said nothing. His gaze trailed to the sand beneath him. He had been one of the more fortunate ones, to be the last few ones thrown into the mess, unlike those who’d started suffering early on. “Hey, Kuroo?” he said quietly, not completely sure that the other boy heard him.

But he did. With his eyes on the nearly cooked noodles, Kuroo responded in a tiny voice. “Yeah?”

“...We’ll make it there.”

Kenma didn’t know how he’d gotten the courage to proclaim something like that, but if Kuroo was counting on him for hope then he’d give him as much as he could.

“The safe haven,” he continued, “we’ll get there and we’ll be happy again.”

Kuroo looked at him sceptically, not because he didn’t believe Kenma, but because he didn’t believe that it was possible for that to happen. Kenma noticed the uncertainty written all over Kuroo’s face. He bit his lip gently before uttering out two more words.

“I promise.”

###

Kenma lay on his back, staring up at the top of the tent. It’d be nice if he could see a sky splattered with stars instead, but he’d make do with this for now. Beside him, Kuroo was fast asleep after having bandaged his wounds. Kenma wondered how long more they’d be like this. And what would happen when, or _if_ , they got to the safe haven. Would everything be back to normal? But it couldn’t, because Kenma’s parents weren’t there, and neither were his friends. Except...

He turned his head to the side. Except Kuroo. But he didn’t know if Kuroo would stick with him. He didn’t know anyone in this dying world. Kuroo was the last person he had left now, the _only_ person he had now. Kenma let out a quiet sigh, turning back to look up. He’d cross the bridge when he got to it.

Outside, he could hear quiet howls from a distance away. The Lost, he concluded, though he knew they wouldn’t be able to find the two of them. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be infected. The Lost didn’t just lose their sanity --- they lost much more. Family, friends, _memories_.

Kenma closed his eyes. Two more days, he told himself. Two more days and it’d all be in the past.

###

He felt a gentle nudge, opening his eyes to see a blurry figure over him that slowly came into focus. “Kuroo,” he said groggily, sitting upright. Kuroo was sitting beside him, having packed his backpack already.

“We need to leave soon,” he said. “Pack your things and come out when you're done.”

Kenma nodded and the other boy left the tent. With a tired yawn, Kenma reached over to the other side of the tent to get the remaining supplies as well as his backpack. His neck ached from sleeping without a pillow for two nights, but he reminded himself that Kuroo had it worse.

“Kozume,” Kuroo said as Kenma stepped out of the tent, “help me take the tent down.”

Kenma was about to open his mouth and remind Kuroo that he didn’t know how to do so, but he stopped himself. _“It’s not good to keep relying on someone.”_ At the sound of Kuroo’s words replaying in his head, he nodded and walked over, taking out the pegs as he remembered that Kuroo had done the previous morning. Some way or another, Kenma managed to take down the tent together with Kuroo and he gathered the wooden planks as Kuroo kept the tent in its bag.

“Before I forget,” Kuroo said all of a sudden, rummaging through his backpack and taking out a handgun and a gun belt, “you should have these.” He passed them to Kenma, who took them with a surprised look. “Just in case something like yesterday happens again.”

“You trust me with a gun?” Kenma asked, securing the belt around his waist and fastening the gun inside.

Kuroo shrugged. “There’s not much left for me to lose.”

Kenma looked at him. And Kenma understood what he meant.

“We’re nearly halfway there,” Kuroo remarked as they walked up one of the hills and looked into the distance. Kenma turned to look at him, seeing a fleeting smile on the boy’s face. “To be honest,” Kuroo said as they started running, “this isn’t as bad as it seems.”

Kenma looked at him funny. “How so?”

“Well, put it this way: we’re having an experience that many book lovers have dreamt of but have never gotten,” Kuroo said with a thoughtful look on his face. He glanced at Kenma for a brief moment. “And we’re not alone.”

Kenma laughed. “It’d be great if we were alone in the sense that we didn’t have to fight against deadly creatures.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Kuroo said. He paused for a while before adding, “But if we have each other, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

For some reason, Kenma found it comforting to hear that.

###

By the afternoon, they’d gotten through more than half of their journey to Yokohama. Kenma had a satisfied smile on his face as he crawled into the tent after dinner. His mother would be proud if she knew how far he’d come. Just a few more kilometres to go and he’d be safe, just like she wanted.

Along the way, the two of them had the most random conversations. From their lives before the Plague to what they planned to do at the safe haven, Kenma learnt a lot about Kuroo. He used to be a student, a grade higher than Kenma. In fact, they’d been in the same school, though they hadn’t met each other on campus before, or even if they did, neither of them remembered. Kenma found it interesting that they could have met before, maybe even spoken a word or two, and then with a small skip of time they were here fighting for their lives together in an apocalypse.

“Kozume,” Kuroo had said during the run, “if we make it to the safe haven---”

(To which Kenma had cut him off and corrected, “ _When_ we make it to the safe haven.”)

“---do you think we could stay together?”

Kenma had looked at him in surprise. “The two of us?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo had confirmed his words with a nod, “because in a time like this, there isn’t anyone else I’ll rather stay with.”

And Kenma had smiled. “Sure.” Because he, too, couldn’t think of anyone other than Kuroo that he’d like to spend the remaining years with.

###

The sky darkened when the duo were in an area surrounded by collapsed buildings. “Should we stay here for the night?” Kuroo asked, sounding a bit hesitant about the area.

Kenma could see why --- they were surrounded by the exact places that the Lost seemed to crowd. However, the next empty plot of sand hills seemed far away and Kenma wasn’t sure they’d be able to get there before night fell and the Lost came out. Perhaps it’d be a better idea to stay put and hope that they’d last the night. “Yeah,” he finally said with a nod after considering the benefits and disadvantages of doing so.

The older boy started pitching the tent beside a dirty and tearing wall. Kenma helped him as much as he could, then took both their backpacks and brought them into the tent. It didn’t seem like they would be able to light a fire, not without attracting the attention of the Lost around. In the end, they settled with sharing cans of mixed vegetables and uncooked baked beans inside of the tent with the flap zipped up.

Kuroo gathered the empty cans once they were done eating and moved them to the corner of the tent. Moving back to take a seat, Kuroo winced and let out a quiet groan, rolling up his pants to reveal the wound from two days ago. Kenma had to stop himself from letting out a loud gasp.

The wound was bigger than it had been before and it didn’t seem to have healed at all. Most of the crimson red blood had dried up, but there was a strange mix of bluish fluid amidst the small volume of fresh blood. Under the lighting in the tent, it wasn’t very obvious what the colour of fluid was, but was uncanningly similar to the colour that had stained the dying body at Kenma’s feet in the supermarket. Kenma felt himself shift away slightly, his breathing quickening a little.

“Kozume?” Kuroo said, a confused look on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“Your l-leg,” he stammered in response, pointing at the wound.

Kuroo looked down and sighed. “I guess it got stained when I was fighting the Lost.”

Stained? It didn’t seem like a stain, but Kenma decided against pointing that out. He didn’t know who he was trying to convince by not mentioning how similar it looked to the bluish fluid on the Lost’s body. “You should b-bandage it up,” he found enough of his voice to say.

Kuroo nodded, taking out a roll of bandages from inside his backpack. He reached down, only to wince and shoot back upright, as if he’d felt a tremendous pain in his lower body. “Shit,” he cursed out loud. “My leg.”

Kenma took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Let me help you.” Not hearing what Kuroo had to say about that, he took the roll of bandage from him and knelt in front of Kuroo. “You should be more careful,” he said quietly, wrapping it around the boy’s leg tightly and securing it with a small safety pin that he found in Kuroo’s backpack.

“Thanks,” Kuroo said in a surprisingly gentle voice, looking at Kenma who had tilted his head up. For a moment, Kenma’s eyes caught his and Kenma quickly averted them.

“It’s nothing,” he said, brushing it off. He felt a wave of discomfort overcome him. Even if Kuroo believed it was a stain from the fight, Kenma couldn’t help but think that there was something more than that. Something _worse_ than that. He’d heard from his mother that the Plague spread through bodily fluids. Then was it possible that---

“ _Kozume._ ”

Kenma looked up at the firm voice. “...Yes?”

“Please don’t tell me you think so.” Kuroo’s voice was steady, but hid a clear plea behind his words.

Kenma gulped. “Think what?” he said cautiously, hoping that Kuroo wasn’t thinking what Kenma thought he was.

“You think I’ve been infected, don’t you?” Kuroo demanded in a shaky voice, as if he himself was afraid of the thought.

“Of course n-not!” Kenma said defensively, lying through his teeth. There was no way he’d admit it to Kuroo’s face. Not when Kuroo had been the one to get him through the past few days, not when Kuroo was the one who would be getting him through the next few and possibly the rest of his life.

Whatever emotions had been on Kuroo’s face were now replaced by a look that sent a shiver through Kenma’s body and made him fall back into a seated position, scrambling back a few metres. It was a look of anger. Pure anger that Kenma had never seen before.

“DON’T LIE TO ME!”

One moment he was seated opposite Kenma, and the next he was kneeling in front of Kenma and pressing a gun to the younger boy’s forehead. Kenma could feel the barrel of the gun digging into his skin and his breathing stopped for a few seconds. His whole body froze, not moving in the slightest.

“K-Kuroo?” he said, fearing that his life would be snatched away from him at any moment. He didn’t just suspect it anymore, but he _knew_ that Kuroo was infected. Never would he ever hold Kenma at gunpoint after everything they’d been through together. Not unless he was losing his mind. Kenma’s hand inched towards his handgun, or rather the handgun that Kuroo had given him, preparing to take it out. But even so, Kenma didn’t know if he’d have the heart to shoot Kuroo.

“You think I’m insane, don’t you?” Kuroo said, cracking a smile that gave Kenma the creeps. Kuroo clicked the gun. “Well, I’ll show you what’s crazy.”

“Kuroo! Don’t do it!” Kenma implored. His hand was on his gun and if he wanted to, he could take it out and fight back. But he didn’t want to. Kenma most certainly didn’t want to shoot the one person who’d stuck by him through this apocalypse. His voice lowered till it was barely audible. “Snap out of it, Kuroo. Please...”

Kuroo remained as he was for a few seconds, then the tense and menacing look on his face faltered. Kenma felt the gun being lifted off his head and saw Kuroo toss it aside with his face completely pale. “Kozume...I’m sorry...” he started, staring down at his hands, which were visibly shaking. “I don’t know what happened to me...”

“It’s okay,” Kenma said, reaching out and lifting Kuroo’s chin up with two fingers. “I’m okay.” Truth to be told, he didn’t know if everything was really ‘okay’ after that, but he’d like to believe that it would be.

Kuroo opened his mouth, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I almost killed you,” he said quietly, in a voice that seemed to be accusing himself. Kenma wished he could say something about that, anything that would assure Kuroo that it was alright. But no, it wasn’t because he really had almost died just seconds ago. Kuroo took Kenma’s wrist and removed his fingers from under his chin, pushing his hand away before letting go. “I’m going to turn in for the night,” he said, looking away and lying down with his back facing Kenma.

There was a tight feeling in Kenma’s chest as he forced himself to turn away and lie down as well. He’d been scared, he realised. Kenma had been scared that Kuroo would actually kill him. Because seeing him like that, it didn’t seem like a far-fetched possibility anymore. Kenma curled himself up. He didn’t like the feeling of being afraid of the only person he could trust. The only person he _wanted_ to trust. He squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t wait for all of this to be over.

###

“Kozume!”

Kenma heard a faint voice calling his name. He still felt drowsy and there didn’t seem to be sunlight coming from outside, meaning that it was still night. He must have been dreaming, he convinced himself, only to hear the same voice.

“Kozume! Wake up!”

He groaned quietly, mumbling a quiet ‘shut up’. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to wake Kozume Kenma up in the middle of the night?

“KENMA!”

He jolted upright at someone calling him by his first name. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d heard that. “Who---what?” His mind was in a frenzy as he glanced to the side to find Kuroo packing the backpacks in a rush.

“Save your questions for later,” Kuroo said, tossing Kenma’s backpack to him. “We need to leave.”

Kenma caught the backpack and picked up the gun that was beside him, slotting it into the belt around his waist. It was clearly still night and he couldn’t understand what was the hurry. “But---”

“NOW!” Kuroo shouted, opening the tent flap and stepping out.

Sending the panic and being influenced by it, Kenma followed behind him quickly, even as the older boy began to run. “What about the tent?” Kenma asked, struggling to catch up with Kuroo since he’d just woken up.

“We’re ditching it,” Kuroo said. “We don't have any time to spare.”

“ _What the hell_ is going on?!” Kenma finally asked, having had enough of not knowing what they were doing running away from their tent in the middle of the night.

“I heard the howling,” Kuroo explained, reaching for his gun. “And it was dangerously loud.”

The loud howling could only mean one thing --- the Lost were near. It wasn’t as if Kenma hadn’t thought of that possibility when they chose to pitch their tent there, but having it happened for real was a whole different issue.

Kenma took his gun out. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo admitted. “But I don’t think we can stop till the sun rises.”

Kenma heard a loud howl coming from behind him. He turned around, shooting at a figure that was charging towards him. He miraculously hit a bullseye in the head of the creature, causing it to fall to the ground. He’d killed someone, he realised. He’d killed a _human_. Well, not really. The Lost were hardly human anymore. But even so, it was hard to shake off the guilt that he was now feeling.

“Don’t get distracted!” he heard Kuroo say, followed by a few more howls and gunshots.

This was no time to be sympathetic, he told himself. He had one priority, and that was to survive till sunrise. “There’s too many!” Kenma shouted as he found himself having to turn around frequently to shoot those behind him while still running at the same time. It wasn’t an easy feat at all, especially on the sandy ground that made it harder to run.

There wasn’t much of a choice, though, so Kenma found himself trying his best to cope with the increasing action. They’d run quite a bit and the sand hills didn’t seem too far away anymore. Maybe once they got there, it’d be a lot easier to deal with their attackers. “Up the first hill and we turn around to fight,” Kuroo instructed as they passed by the last two buidings in the street and entered a huge plain of sand.

Kenma responded with a silent acknowledgement, sprinting up the hill as fast as his tired legs could possibly carry him. By the time he’d turned around with Kuroo by his side, there were at least thirty of the Lost climbing quickly up the hill after them.

Immediately, gunfire echoed around the open area and Kenma saw Kuroo shooting at the Lost. Not wanting to leave all the work to Kuroo and also sensing the urgency of the situation, Kenma suppressed the guilt he felt and began to shoot as well. While the Lost were more resilient than humans, Kenma realised that they weren’t as hard to defeat as he’d originally thought. They died almost instantly from shots in the head, and shots in the heart or close by left them to bleed slowly to death even as they continued to attack.

Kenma yelped as one of the Lost crawled low on the ground and grabbed onto Kenma’s ankle, pulling it to trip him onto the ground and digging its long and dirty fingernails into Kenma’s skin, piercing through the layers. Kenma shook his leg as a natural reflex, firing multiple bullets at the head of the creature.

“Don’t waste the bullets!” Kuroo warned him. “We don't have an unlimited supply!”

“I know!” Kenma shot back as he scrambled onto his feet. But it was hard to stop himself from rapidly firing at something that was clawing at his ankle. As the body went limp, he pulled his leg away from the loosened grip, cringing slightly to himself in disgust.

Half of the Lost coming after them had been taken down by gunfire, but there was the other half left still moving when the duo had run out of ammunition. “Please tell me you have more ammo,” Kenma hissed behind clenched teeth as the two of them stood next to each other. Kenma kept his eyes on their attackers lest they fall victim to a surprise attack, while Kuroo rummaged through his backpack.

“Of course I do,” Kuroo said after a while, tossing a fresh magazine at Kenma. “Come on, let’s take them down.” He began firing again and Kenma did the same.

It wasn’t a simple job to keep his eyes on his targets to shoot while simultaneously making sure none got near him. He didn’t have as much experience in using a gun since he’d never touched one in his life until this whole saga happened. In fact, he still didn’t know where Kuroo got the guns from, though he was pretty sure they were stolen goods. Kuroo had shot each and every creature that got too close to him, while Kenma found himself having to deal with some that had gotten past the bullets.

As one of the Lost crawled towards his feet, Kenma kicked some of the sand, causing it to momentarily blind the creature and giving Kenma the chance to fire. Thank goodness he was Immune, or he’d most certainly have been infected by now. The numbers of those after them began to decrease as the duo managed to shoot down an increasing number of them, having gotten used to the situation.

It took them only minutes in total, but it felt to Kenma like forever before they were surrounded by dead bodies. Even then, he couldn’t help but hold his gun defensively in front of him as if the Lost would just get up and start attacking them again. They weren’t zombies, he constantly had to remind himself. They were just humans that had gone insane. Which of course, was to the extent that it didn’t make them human anymore, but Kenma would rather not think about that. He wondered if his mother had become like that, if she had possibly been one of those he’d just murdered. The faces of the Lost were hardly recognisable, anyway. It made Kenma sick to think about that.

“Let’s go,” he heard Kuroo say. Kenma nodded. Both of them started running once again.

And they didn’t stop till the sun began to rise.

###

Kenma was out of breath by the time they stopped running. Never in the seventeen years of his life had he run for such a long time. “Where do we go now?” he asked once he’d stopped panting. For the first time in the past four days, he saw an empty look in Kuroo’s eyes. Kenma’s heart stung. They’d run so far they didn’t know where they were anymore.

 _South._ That was all Kenma knew. Yokohama was south of Tokyo and for the longest time, he’d believed that if they kept running south, they’d make it there eventually. But the world wasn’t as straightforward as Kenma had once believed it was. Kenma didn’t know how much further he could run.

“We have to keep running,” Kuroo said, completely bypassing Kenma’s question. Because maybe, Kenma thought, he didn’t know the answer either.

He had to continue running, he reminded himself. He couldn't stop running till he got to the safe haven. He couldn't stop running till he was sure he would be alright. He couldn’t stop running till he fulfilled the last thing he’d promised his mother.

Kenma let out a tired exhale. “Kuro,” he said in a strained voice, not knowing how he’d just shortened the boy’s name, though he could possibly just be too tired to think. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

Kuroo stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Kenma,” he said softly, and Kenma had no idea when they’d gotten so close that he’d use his first name, “don’t give up, okay?”

Kenma looked away. He’d already promised his mother that he’d make it and he didn’t know if he had the capacity to promise yet another person. But knowing he needed to convince himself that he would make it, he looked at Kuroo and nodded. “Okay.”

Their daily running slowed to a walk. It wasn’t a leisurely walk that one would take in a park, but a walk that held ninety-nine extinguished sparks of hope and one that remained dimly lit. “We’re almost there,” Kuroo would say once every few hundred metres. Kenma didn’t know how much he believed Kuroo, or how much Kuroo believed himself, but each and every time, he would nod.

The last stretch of the walk for the day was a long plain of sand. There weren’t many buildings in sight, excluding a few collapsed ones. Somewhere along the way, Kenma took a glance back to where they’d come from. The city seemed like a normal one, perhaps even an oasis in such a deserted plain. But coming from there, Kenma knew better. It was funny how things had changed that much. Nowhere felt safe anymore and sometimes Kenma found himself doubting that Yokohama was really the safe haven that it was said to be.

“You okay?” Kuroo asked, noticing the tense look on Kenma’s face.

Kenma nodded. “Yeah.” But really, he wasn’t sure. He inhaled sharply and looked up into the distance. Far away, past a few ruined buildings in the distance, there seemed to be a huge wall. Kenma’s eyes widened. Could that be the safe haven? He nudged Kuroo gently, relaying his thoughts.

Kuroo squinted, blocking the sunlight with a hand to his forehead. He pulled back suddenly and turned to Kenma, his eyes seemingly brighter than before. “Do you think---”

“That it’s the safe haven?” Kenma completed his words, a small smile forming on his face. “I’d say there’s a likely chance.”

“Just past the ruins and we’re almost there,” Kuroo said to no one in particular. There was a wide smile on his face as he looked excitedly at Kenma.

Kenma looked from the walls, to Kuroo, and then to the walls again. Perhaps he’d doubted the existence of the so-called safe haven all along, but seeing a potential hope in front of his own eyes made the past few days seem worth it all. Maybe, just maybe, they weren’t so far away anymore.

“Let’s cover as much distance as we can today and we’ll probably be there by tomorrow,” Kuroo suggested, quickening his steps.

Kenma matched his pace, walking beside him. “Yeah,” he said, his smile still on his face.

All of a sudden, the world felt a whole lot brighter.

###

Without their tent, the two of them found themselves spending their night under what seemed to have been an overhead bridge, just like what they’d spent their first night together under. Contrary to that, the ground below the bridge had been piled up by so much sand that it was pretty much like a rock shelter but with concrete instead. One side was completely blocked and the angle of the partially collapsed bridge dug into the ground, creating something like a small and shallow cave.

Neither of them felt like lighting a fire anymore, so they resigned to eating stale bread again. It wasn’t very appetizing, but it definitely made Kenma full after just half of a breadstick. Once they’d finished, they sat under the shelter, staring at the night sky. In the absence of the tent, the strong night breeze was able to hit them harder than it previously had, though the impact was lessened slightly by the shape of the cave.

“Are you cold?” Kuroo asked, noticing Kenma shivering slightly.

Kenma sighed. “Yeah,” he replied, pulling his knees to his chest.

“I’d offer you my jacket, but unfortunately, I don’t have one.”

Kenma smiled. “Thanks anyway. The thought’s good enough for me.”

There were a few moments of silence between them before Kuroo spoke again. “Hey, Kenma?”

The younger boy turned to look at him. “Hm?”

Kuroo seemed to hold back his words, as if choosing them carefully. “Can you promise me two things?” he finally said after a few seconds.

“Tell me what they are,” Kenma said. Because he didn’t want to make any more promises he wasn’t capable of fulfilling.

“First,” Kuroo said as he turned his head to look out into the distance, “promise me you’ll get to the safe haven no matter what.”

Kenma hesitated. Then after a while, he nodded. “I promise.” They seemed as if they were so close already, so what was the harm in making that promise? It wasn’t the first time he’d done it anyway.

“And another thing,” Kuroo continued, flinching slightly. Kenma’s body tensed up as a bad feeling began to overcome him. “If I ever try to hurt you,” he said, looking at Kenma with a sad look in his eyes, “promise me that you’ll kill me.”

Kenma’s head snapped in Kuroo’s direction. “Kuro, I can’t---”

“ _Please._ ”

Kenma’s heart sank. He didn’t want to make a promise like that, not when he didn’t know if he could live up to it. But as Kuroo looked at Kenma, his eyes begging Kenma to say the two words he needed to hear, Kenma felt his heart waver. If it would make Kuroo feel better, couldn’t he just lie about it? Yet, promises were meant to be kept. Kenma felt his whole body shaking as he spoke, and it wasn’t because of the breeze.

“I promise.”

Kenma looked down at the sand in front of him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kuroo smile for a moment so brief Kenma could have been imagining it all. “Kuro,” he said, not lifting his gaze. “Thank you...for everything.”

“Don’t thank me,” Kuroo replied. Kenma could hear the smile in his voice. “It was my pleasure working with you.”

Kenma didn’t respond.

It was unimaginable how close the two of them had gotten after a mere three days. Even if the rest of the world died around him, Kenma had a feeling that as long as he had Kuroo by his side, he would be just fine. It was crazy --- _all of this was_ \--- but maybe that was why in this kind of situation, crazy had become the normal.

“Kenma,” he heard Kuroo call his name and he turned his head, his eyes meeting with Kuroo’s.

“...Yeah?” Kenma said quietly.

“Do you think,” Kuroo started, his voice shrinking immediately after until it was barely audible, “if we’d met in a different universe, or even just in a different time...we could have been something more?”

Kenma looked down, as if deep in thought. And perhaps he was. Because it hurt to think of it that way, but as he heard Kuroo say those words, phrasing them in the way of an impossible love story, a strange longing filled Kenma’s heart. “Maybe,” he said, shifting closer to Kuroo. He swung a leg over Kuroo’s lap, straddling him. Then in a quiet whisper, he added, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be something now.”

Kuroo leaned forward and kissed him.

Kenma kissed him back.

###

Night fell and Kenma nestled his head in the crook of Kuroo’s neck.

He didn’t know how much longer he had, or how much longer he had _with Kuroo_. It pained him to imagine the possibility that this was their last night together. He didn’t know if Kuroo would be let into the city, given that he was infected. And he didn’t know how much longer Kuroo would remember him for, before he forgot everything and Kenma became nothing more than a stranger again. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the quiet howling of the Lost. But this time, it felt far, far away. He tightened his arms around Kuroo, snuggling closer to him. He didn’t want this to end so soon. He closed his eyes.

That night, Kenma fell asleep in Kuroo’s arms.

For the first time since he’d started running, the night didn’t feel so cold anymore.

###

“Kenma, wake up.”

Kenma opened his eyes at the sound of a gentle voice. Kuroo was still holding onto him, brushing a loose strand of hair out of his face. After pressing a light kiss to Kenma’s forehead, Kuroo let go of him and stood up. Kenma did the same.

As they walked back onto their path, Kenma caught sight of the walls again and all of a sudden, it dawned upon him once more that this was the last day of their journey. It was a bittersweet feeling, because as much as he couldn’t wait to get to the haven with Kuroo, there still lay something ahead.

“It’s hard to believe this is coming to an end,” Kuroo said with a half-hearted laugh.

Kenma steadied his trembling voice. “Yeah.”

“I’ll miss this, you know?” Kuroo said as they ascended the last hill before the ruins. “The two of us, fighting together.”

A nostalgic smile found its way onto Kenma’s face. “I’ll miss this too,” he admitted. His finger brushed gently against Kuroo’s and he felt Kuroo take his hand, lacing their fingers together.

The two of them walked down the hill towards the ruins.

It was eerily quiet when they stepped past the first building. The whole atmosphere gave Kenma the creeps. There were four buildings in total, all of which were in a terrible condition. If they weren’t half collapsed, then they had shattered windows and tearing walls. Kuroo let go of Kenma’s hand and Kenma subconsciously reached for his handgun. He wasn’t afraid to use it anymore. He’d pretty much lost the last strand of his humanity when they’d been fighting a night ago and he’d shot countless of the Lost. But to trade his humanity for the chance to see another sunrise, Kenma decided he could deal with it.

Kuroo had his gun out too, throwing wary glances in random directions. It would be a miracle if they could get out without a fight, but Kenma had already dismissed that as impossible. With everything that had happened, he supposed it really was.

Kenma’s breathing slowed down purposefully as he tried to pinpoint the source of any noise. Once in a while, there would be a small crash as yet another part of a building collapsed, or a quiet whoosh of the wind through the ruins. Kenma could feel his heart racing. He opened his mouth to utter the other boy’s name, to get some comfort in his voice, but no words came out. Slowly but surely, they’d passed by the first pair of buildings lining either side of the path.

Beside him, Kenma could hear Kuroo taking a deep breath. The tension was too much for Kenma. It felt like they were the protagonists in a horror movie, waiting for the jump scare to arrive. Neither knew when it was coming, or if it was coming at all. And maybe that was what made it worse.

“Almost there,” Kuroo muttered as they’d gotten past half of the second and last pair of buildings. Kenma gulped, his hand clenching tightly onto the handgun. He silently hoped that they’d get to the plains before the Lost came out of hiding. At least, it’d be easier to fight in a large area. “Should we make a run for it?”

Kenma nodded. Just a split second later, the two of them were bolting towards the plains. All of a sudden, the silence was replaced by howling that had no end. Kenma rushed to the top of the hill, turning around just as Kuroo did. He held his gun steady with two hands, aiming for the closest target. Then the firing began once more.

There weren’t as many of the Lost as there had been at the attack a night ago. Kenma found it relatively easy to shoot, though there would occasionally be one that would crawl up to Kenma, forcing him to kick the sand around.

The closest he got to being mauled to death was when one of the Lost grabbed onto Kenma’s left leg, hand sliding by their nails against his skin and peeling off the layers. Blood oozed out of the fresh cuts, only to be taken over by more as the Lost seemed to be unfazed by the first few bullets and continued to claw at Kenma’s leg, as if trying to climb onto him and drag him to the ground. Becoming distressed and losing his composure, Kenma couldn’t seem to get a bullet in the right place and had to resort to other means, namely using his other foot to stomp down on the Lost’s head, crushing it into the ground and shooting the back of its skull a few times immediately after. For the first few seconds, the blood stained with the familiar bluish fluid began to spurt out of its head like a tiny fountain, splattering onto Kenma's lower legs. Kenma yelped and jumped back, watching as the blood began to settle to a slower but nevertheless constant flow, staining the sand in a mix of dark colours.

“You alright there?” Kuroo asked, his eyes focused on the battle ahead of him.

Kenma found enough words to answer a quick ‘yeah’ before he resumed his shooting at the oncoming creatures. It took Kenma a few minutes before he was sure that he’d gotten all of them on the ground and they wouldn’t be rising up soon. With a satisfied smile, he turned to look at Kuroo.

Then his smile was wiped away completely.

Hand shaking and face pale, Kuroo was standing right in front of Kenma and looking at him with fearful eyes, pointing his gun at his head with only a gap of less than an inch. Kenma shook his head slowly. Not here, not now, not _ever_. Kuroo couldn’t be holding him at gunpoint. There was no way---

“Kuro,” he said softly, hoping that somehow Kuroo would hear his voice and fight back against whatever was taking over him, that somehow Kuroo would look at _Kenma_ and remember that just a night ago, Kenma had fallen asleep in his arms and they had been _happy_. “Don’t do this, please...”

Kuroo’s eyes were wide open and Kenma knew that Kuroo could see what he was doing. He could see it, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Kenma,” he said in a familiar yet foreign voice, his words complete with desperation, “shoot me.”

“No,” Kenma said almost immediately. He could feel the gun trembling against his forehead. “Kuro,” he said, feeling his throat turn dry, “I don’t want to shoot you.” He raised his hand to cup the side of Kuroo’s face, keeping his movements as steady as he could. “Look at me,” he said, his gaze catching Kuroo’s. “I’m Kenma. _Kozume Kenma._ ” His voice began to crack ever so slightly. “Can’t you remember?”

Kenma heard a click, even as the pleading look in Kuroo’s eyes didn’t falter. “Kenma, you promised,” he said. Kenma bit his lip so hard that the taste of blood filled his mouth as he lifted his gun to Kuroo’s chest, the chamber still loaded from the fight. But looking into Kuroo’s eyes, seeing the cracks appearing around his fading pupils, Kenma’s heart couldn’t find the strength to shoot him.

“I can’t,” he said in the quietest voice.

Then for the shortest moment, Kuroo’s eyes cleared, his voice returning to an imploring but tender whisper, just as he’d sounded the night before. Kenma felt his vision blur as a layer of tears formed, clogging up his lashes.

“ _Please, Kenma._ ”

Closing his eyes and letting the tears flow out, Kenma pulled the trigger, listening as his world shattered to a million pieces.

In a heartbeat, Kuroo’s eyes widened again. His hand that had been holding the gun dropped to beside him and the gun plummeted onto the sand with a quiet thud. Then Kenma saw a single tear flowing down the left side of his face, dripping off his chin and falling towards the ground. Kuroo smiled softly, raising his hand to hold Kenma’s face steady as he gently wiped his tears away. “Don’t cry,” he said in a warm, loving voice.

“I love you, Kenma.”

He fell at Kenma’s feet.

###

Kenma didn’t know how long he’d been running, only that he stopped on top of the last hill separating him from the safe haven. He looked at the cityscape beyond the walls, recognising the buildings from the pictures he’d seen, a long time before his world came crashing down. It was Yokohama.

It was the safe haven.

He stared at the high walls, at the gates that could be seen at the entrance, and at the city that was waiting for him. Yet, Kenma wasn’t sure he wanted to go to the safe haven anymore. He didn’t have anything left to fight for. He’d lost his family, he’d lost his friends, and just when he’d thought he had Kuroo, he’d lost him too.

But as Kenma stood on top of the last hill, staring at the haven that had once seemed so far away, he remembered his promises. To his mother, to Kuroo, and as much as he hadn’t realised, even to himself.

Kenma let out a quiet but steady exhale.

And he ran.

**Author's Note:**

>  **  
>  _"Sometimes you will never know the true value of a moment until it becomes a memory."_  
> **  
> 
> 
> writing this was a hell of a ride but i have no regrets :')
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! feel free to comment your thoughts below; i'm pretty interested to know what yall think UwU
> 
> thanks for stopping by!! <3
> 
> my tumblr --> ([x](https://hq-iteza.tumblr.com/))


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